Beauty and the Beast

Ever since mankind had chosen to wear the cloak of civilization and walk a different path than beast, a gap had existed between the rich and the poor. No society could dole out resources in complete fairness—although all humans were supposedly equal, the same could not be said for their circumstances.

Such an argument, however, did little to console the poor. Just as wealth generally begat wealth, poverty could become an endless and unbearable cycle. But despite the frustration of the underprivileged, life had to go on. The poor had to toil for their survival and exchange their dignity for their bread. The long history of poverty had dictated that the vilest of professions—the most immoral of choices—was often left to those in need.

Beautiful girls in particular could be exploited in their desperation.

“Um…” Raquel looked down at her body, a frown curling her lips. “Is this really, um… what you want from me?”

She wore a white waitress apron, its ends tied firmly behind her waist. The words “Boland’s Bakery” were embroidered over her chest.

“You look perfect.” Michelle Boland smiled broadly and clapped her hands together. “Now let’s get going— warm bread waits for no one!”

Since settling in Taurus a few days earlier, Shannon and his sisters had scoured the town for work. With the substantial repair bill for the Big Bear Inn looming over them, they hoped to pay their dues and leave before more assassins could attack the locals. But Taurus was a rural town, one with no particular industry to speak of, and it was difficult for strangers to find a day’s wage. Raquel had been accepted for a few housekeeping and babysitting jobs. Shannon had had no choice but to cook and clean at the Big Bear Inn, or sit on the main street with a sign that read: “Will Sharpen Knives.”

Pacifica had declared, “I’m a dependent!” before wandering away.

Eventually, a local establishment known as Boland’s Bakery—a place that did a fair amount of business with the Big Bear Inn—approached the Casulls with a job opportunity.

“Basically,” Michelle explained as she arranged small buns on an outdoor table, “we’re launching a new product.” She brushed a strand of short chestnut-colored hair behind her ear before glancing up with a grin. She was seventeen, just like Winia.

“My father’s really proud of the new line, so we wanted to do something special for a promotion. And he was hoping for some beautiful young woman,” she smiled at Raquel, “to help out.”

“Oh.” Raquel tugged at her skirt, smoothing out the final wrinkles. “And why is that?”

“It’s all part of the marketing strategy.” Michelle dramatically boxed the sky with her hands. “We call it, ‘Boland’s New Buns—Bittersweet, Like First Love.’”

Shannon tried not to roll his eyes, but he failed.

“Bittersweet?”

Michelle handed him one. “Yeah. They’re better than you’d think.”

Shannon stared at the bun in his hand, then at his apron-donning sister. “Whatever,” he muttered. “Good luck, Raquel.”

Boland’s Bakery, which was located on the main street in town, had a charming storefront. However, brightly colored banners, a table draped in a glitzy tablecloth, and a stack of gaudy flyers Michelle and Shannon had made, sharply contrasted its inherent charm. Raquel stood in front of the spectacle with a tray of bread and her usual lax smile.

“Welcome to Boland’s Bakery!” she called to each passerby on the street. “Would you like to try our new product? It’s probably really good.”

Most of the people she called to—especially the males—came over to try a bun. Possibly because the bread was delicious (or the bakery’s tacky decorations warranted a closer look), the locals on the street began to take interest in Raquel. Before long, a crowd had formed around her.

“May I have one?” a young man asked.

“I’ll take two,” called another.

“Bittersweet,” an older man commented as he tasted the bread. “Almost like… first love.”

Still, most of the men seemed more interested in Raquel than in whatever she peddled. She earned more than a few dopey grins from the guys as she flashed her smile.

“Isn’t this a bit much?” Shannon complained. “I mean, I can’t imagine a countryside bakery needs a promotional event.”

Michelle clucked her tongue, her black eyes glittering with purpose. “No matter what your location or ware, it’s not easy to succeed in business. You’re soft, Shannon. Approximately 2.5 times softer than our cream puffs.”

He stared at her. “Did you just use decimals after the word approximately?”

Michelle punched him lightly on the shoulder, but otherwise ignored his comment.

“There are four bakeries in Taurus. And we have a rivalry with Kunan’s Bakery that we take very seriously.” She shook her head gravely. “I hate the guy who runs it. He doesn’t get along with my father, and he calls me ‘little girl.’ We’ll show him who can be top bun in this town!”

“A baker’s life is a hard one,” Shannon commented without the barest hint of sincerity.

“Well, I’m just glad we found Raquel to help us out. She’s exactly what we were looking for.”

“Why? You’re a young lady, and I’m sure people like you.”

Michelle shook her head. “We really wanted to catch people’s attention. It’s much easier to get noticed if we have a mysterious beauty from out of town.”

“Mysterious?” Shannon glanced at his twin sister. Raquel smiled brightly as she handed out buns to the growing crowd, her face calm and pleasant. Shannon’s own reflection peeked at him from the shop window; his image betrayed a slouchy, unhappy young man.

Shannon sighed. He and Raquel spent almost all of their time together, but he still had trouble understanding her. Not only could he rarely tell what she was thinking, but he had no idea how she could stay so relaxed throughout the day.

“I guess ‘mysterious’ is one way to put it,” he murmured. “But I’m not complaining—we need the money, and I’m sick of doing dishes.” He glanced around.

“Actually,” he said after a moment. “I’ve been meaning to ask you—have you seen my kid sister today?”

Michelle stopped to think. “Pacifica?” she asked. “No. Why?”

Because she has a tendency to almost get killed, he wanted to say, but refrained. Winia had said earlier that Pacifica had gone out “to meet someone,” and that made Shannon particularly uncomfortable.

“You really dote on her,” Michelle noticed, a sly smile on her face. “Is that clinginess I sense, Big Brother?”

Shannon brushed the comment off. “It probably looks that way.”

Michelle chuckled. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed, Shannon. I think it’s cute! Just keep in mind that she’s fifteen now and she’s old enough to have a boyfriend.” She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get in her way when she’s ready for that, all right?”

“Anybody who wants to court that girl would have to be either a masochist or the most patient person on the planet.” Shannon ran a hand through his hair. “Anyway, I’ve done my part here. I’m going to look for…” He trailed off, distracted, as the crowd around Boland’s Bakery suddenly began to part.

What the hell is that?

A chunky green figure sauntered through the mob. It looked like a living creature… in a way, but its shape was exaggerated. It had short arms and legs and a tuft of something bushy on its head, although whether or not the tuft was supposed to be hair or the crown of a rooster was anyone’s guess. Shannon thought he was going crazy until he realized the creature was a costume.

The rest of the crowd seemed as perplexed as Shannon, since most people scurried to get out of the creature’s way. The few who looked closer in morbid fascination pointed to the creature’s small horns and short tail.

“Is that… an alligator?” someone ventured.

“Far from it,” answered a voice.

Shannon tore his eyes away from the green monstrosity and looked to the middle-aged man beside it. He was short and plump, with thinning hair and a big smile. The words: “Kunan’s Bakery” lettered on his shirt left little doubt regarding his identity.

“This,” he declared, patting the green beast on the shoulder, “is a dragon of old!”

“A dragon?” repeated the crowd.

A dragon. The most powerful of the legendary beasts, said to have fought with the strength of God in the War of Creation.

Shannon grimaced. Many artists and poets had tried to describe what the great mythical beast had looked like, but it was up to interpretation. And Kunan’s version had taken some major liberties.

“Isn’t he cute?” Kunan commented. “My bakery’s going to have a new line of products based on little Soupy here. Soupy cream, Soupy chocolate twists, Soupy danishes! He’s going to be such a hit with children that we’ll finally be able to open a branch store in the capital. Ha ha ha!”

Kunan reached into a sack and pulled out a bun that looked like Soupy. It was a carefully prepared pastry, probably filled with cream or some sort of jelly.

Michelle, her eyes wide, thrust a finger at Kunan. “That’s treachery!” she cried, although her voice shook.

Shannon couldn’t believe it. Is she actually panicking? he wondered. Over competition from a mutated baby alligator?

“Have you no pride?!” Michelle demanded. “If you want to compete with us, do it with your product! Don’t try and get ahead with cheap marketing tricks!”

Shannon was about to mention the irony of the comment when Raquel, his point personified, let out a deep, affected gasp.

“He’s so cute,” she breathed, her hands clasped together as if in prayer.

Shannon slapped a hand to his forehead.

“Hey!” Michelle exclaimed as Raquel wandered dreamily toward the beast. “Where are you going? Raquel!”

The men in the crowd looked dreamily at Raquel. The passion in her eyes had a powerful effect on her male admirers.

Michelle tried to grab Raquel as she lunged for Soupy. “You work for me, Raquel!” Michelle cried. “Stay away from that thing!”

Unfortunately, Michelle’s protests didn’t stop Raquel. Instead, she just drug Michelle along.

Kunan gave another one of his impressive belly laughs. “Ha ha ha! And you doubted the attraction of my adorable little Soupy!”

Admittedly, Raquel wasn’t the only one intrigued— the women and children in the crowd seemed to have taken quite a liking to Soupy. Every time he waved his stubby arms, the crowd broke out into laughter and cheers.

“Grrrr!” Michelle growled as she clung to Raquel’s back. “That’s it! We’re gonna find out who really can sell more! I declare a battle of the mascots!”

Raquel suddenly let out a tragic scream and looked at Michelle with wide, pained eyes.

“I have to battle Soupy?”

“That’s right.”

“But that’s so… so…” She clearly struggled with the concept for a moment.

Shannon felt his blood run cold. Uh-oh.

Raquel’s natural decisiveness seemed to eventually take effect, because she gripped her fist after a moment and nodded solemnly.

“Then it must be done,” she intoned.

Shannon stepped in front of her, making sure he stood between his sister and Soupy. “Raquel,” he said slowly, “it’s not the kind of battle you’re thinking of.”

Raquel shook her head. “Alas, I already know our path is covered in blood—”

“No blood, Raquel.”

“If the enemy has to be destroyed—”

“No destruction, Raquel.” Shannon quickly pushed down her hands, which she’d raised as if preparing for a combat spell. “They just want to see who can sell more bread.”

Raquel blinked, the determination vanishing from her eyes.

Michelle, clearly disturbed by Raquel’s interpretation of the word battle, swallowed. “Yeah,” she agreed. “What were you just… trying to do?”

Shannon glanced over at Soupy, who had retreated at Raquel’s insistence to draw his blood.

“Seriously,” Shannon murmured under his breath. “Who the heck would agree to wear that stupid costume?”

Unfortunately, Soupy seemed to hear him. The mythical dragon looked hurt.

Winia’s grandmother felt unusually well that day, so Winia left the Big Bear Inn in her care, while Winia went to check up on the Casulls’ new jobs.

Truth be told, she was a bit concerned. The Big Bear Inn baked most of its own bread, but in the rare instances that it served fancy pastries, it bought them from Boland’s Bakery. Winia had become an acquaintance of Michelle Boland through those occasional dealings; she’d heard the story of how Boland’s Bakery had been forced to move to Taurus from a bigger town after a crooked employee had robbed the establishment blind.

Michelle was a city-bred girl and seemed to find life in Taurus boring, which led to her bad habit of creating giant scenes out of tiny issues. And with the Casull siblings’ in her employment… well, Winia was a bit concerned. So when she found an abnormally large crowd gathered in front of Boland’s Bakery, she pushed her way in. While she was maneuvering between two middle-aged women, a single voice floated in the air above the others.

“Number Eight: little Soupy does a forward roll!”

The two women cheered, along with most of the other women and children in the audience. Winia looked up to see someone in an incredibly awkward big-headed alligator costume, roll across a platform, fail to get up, and wave its stubby arms in frustration. The crowd ate it up.

“Wow, he’s so cute!”

“Good effort there, Soupy!”

“I love you, Soupy!”

Winia watched as the mob cooed and clapped when the creature fought to its feet. She didn’t think the thing was cute… she honestly found it a little disturbing.

“What’s going on?” she wondered aloud. “And what the heck’s a ‘Soupy’?”

“The Soupy, really. I sure hope he’s one of a kind.”

Winia turned. Shannon stood beside her, his arms folded and a slightly-more-exhausted-than-usual expression on his face.

“Oh. Hi.” Winia tugged on her skirt, which was wrinkled from the crowd. “Wasn’t Raquel supposed to be with you?”

“Number Nine: Raquel will sweep her hair sensuously over her shoulder!”

Raquel walked out to the edge of the platform, cleared her throat politely, and provocatively swept her hair over her shoulder. The male members of the audience whooped and cheered. Raquel, clearly seeking approval, looked back at Michelle who gave Raquel a thumbs-up and a pleased grin.

“Um…” Winia furrowed her eyebrows at Shannon. “What the heck is going on here?”

Shannon just sighed.

“Number Ten: Soupy dances!”

“Number Eleven: Raquel bends over slightly!”

“Number Twelve: Soupy spins around until he falls over!”

“Grrr, that’s a good one. In that case, Number Thirteen: Raquel gets naked!”

The men in the crowd exploded in delirium. Raquel, obviously too caught up in the moment to think clearly, reached for her clothes. She abruptly stopped, turned, and sent Michelle a disapproving look.

“Fine,” Kunan announced. “Then the gloves are coming off, folks! Number Fourteen: Soupy swallows oil and spits fire!”

“HEY!” Soupy—or rather, whoever was inside him—protested from within the suit. The human-monster hybrid flailed his stout arms. “I can’t do that!”

“Quiet,” Kunan snapped. “I didn’t raise you to be such a quitter.”

“You didn’t raise me, period!”

Winia’s eyes widened. She could detect that argumentative tone anywhere.

“Shannon,” Winia began slowly, “is that Pacifica inside the—”

“Please.” Shannon rubbed his temples, his eyes shut tight. “Saying it out loud just makes the mortification more real.”

Michelle, who had redoubled her efforts to win over the crowd, attempted to untie the Raquel’s wore.

“Come on, Raquel! Do it for the bittersweet buns!”

“Excuse me,” Raquel retorted, doing her best to break free of Michelle. The two girls catfought on the platform, grabbing at each other in desperation. It was a very welcome sight for the men in the crowd.

“Yeah! Take it off!”

“Pull her hair, pull her hair!”

“Use your nails, ladies!”

Winia raised an eyebrow at Shannon, and he made to roll up his sleeves.

“All right,” he muttered as he pushed his way through the crowd. “This is ending before I see something I regret.”

Winia didn’t know if he meant Pacifica gurgling oil, or Raquel losing all her clothes. She guessed that both options were equally horrible to him.

The battle of the mascots ended without a winner, but the townspeople didn’t seem to care. They had obviously been successfully entertained. Winia had no idea whether or not the whole thing had increased any sales, but the Casulls didn’t seem to worry about it. Winia was sure they were just happy it was over.

As Winia set out plates for dinner that evening, she heard Raquel sigh. She was slumped in her seat with her chin cupped in her hands.

“Oh, Soupy,” Raquel murmured sadly. “I miss you already.”

It was unusual to see Raquel so melancholy, and it unnerved Winia a bit. She placed a glass of juice in front of Raquel in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Sometimes I don’t get you,” Shannon complained. “You actually liked that disgusting little thing?”

Raquel dropped her head on the table. “Mm.”

Winia started to arrange the napkins. “That’s odd,” she commented. “I didn’t think you two were so disconnected.”

Shannon looked up at her with a frown. “What?”

Winia paused, swallowed her discomfort, and continued with her train of thought. “I mean, families are supposed to be really close, aren’t they? You’ve lived together for so long, and you grew up together… I figured you would know each other pretty well by now. Isn’t that why you trust each other?”

The words sounded painfully naive to Winia’s ears, and she regretted them the moment they came out of her mouth. Shannon, however, didn’t seem bothered; he reached over and took Raquel’s juice.

“If you lived with someone you knew absolutely everything about, you’d be pretty bored. It probably wouldn’t be much different than being alone.” He looked into the juice, frowned, and returned it to its place setting.

Winia paused. She’d never thought about it that way.

“Raquel always says that you learn things from people who are different. And to have trust in someone… well, that doesn’t really depend on whether or not you know what they’re thinking.” He shrugged. “I think people should believe what they want to believe, regardless of whether or not things are spelled out.”

“But… you might get betrayed that way.” Winia said the words without thinking.

“If that happens, then you were stupid for trusting that person to begin with. It’s completely up to you who you trust—and whatever comes with that is your responsibility.”

Winia paused again. “I guess,” she said after a moment.

“Anyway, that’s just what I think.” Shannon yawned. “You don’t have to agree with it. Everyone has to make their own choices when it comes to trust.”

Winia stared at him. Then, slowly, she smiled.

“I’m hungry!” Pacifica clomped down the stairs, completely ruining the moment. “Is dinner ready yet?”

Winia got back to setting the table. “In a minute,” she murmured quickly.

Pacifica sighed and plopped down in the seat next to Shannon. She flashed him a smile, but he only stared steadily at her in response.

“By the way,” he said darkly. “Where were you all day, Pacifica?”

“Huh? Oh.” Pacifica randomly raised her arms in their air, then looked away. “I wanted to ask you something,” she said after a moment. She tilted her head back, rested a hand on her cheek, and shot him her doe eyes. “…Do you think I’m cute?”

Silence filled the room. After a few awkward seconds, Shannon snorted.

“I’ve had enough of ‘cute’ today,” he answered lowly. “Especially from you.”

Pacifica regained her usual indignant scowl. “What?” she snapped. “Jeez, you’re such a downer! You could’ve just said ‘yes.’” She harrumphed and tucked her chin into her hand. “And as for that ‘especially from you’ hit, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Winia tried to hide her smile before heading to her half-destroyed kitchen.

As it turned out, the Kunan’s Soupy Sales Strategy fell flat on its face. The bakery failed to realize that the cuter the mascot, the less customers wanted to eat food in its shape.

Michelle came over to the Big Bear Inn to celebrate her father’s success. She brought the Casulls her finest First Love Buns… but no one seemed very interested.